


blue sky, pink lips

by moonythejedi394



Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Color, Color Blindness, M/M, black and white, technically? i think?, the world is black and white until you meet your soulmate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 06:50:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10211951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonythejedi394/pseuds/moonythejedi394
Summary: "You see the world in black and white until you meet your soulmate then everything is in colour..."How do you explain the color blue without calling it blue? How do you describe the color pink without saying that it's pink? How do you tell someone who's never seen color ever in their life that their eyes are brown?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hour_glass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hour_glass/gifts).



> a short little fluffball I wrote for EverKnown bc I was bored. That's pretty much the majority of our relationship, I say I'm bored, she gives me a prompt, I supply her with fiction. It's a symbiotic relationship. I might add more chapters later, I think it stands pretty well as a one shot so enjoy!

* * *

  _**blue sky, pink lips** _

 

 

If hell was real, then it was third period Modern History. And if the devil was real, it was Mr. Fitch.

 

Mitch continued doodling. He was paying absolutely no attention to the lecture Fitch was trying to give his class, he didn’t care. The Wright brothers could go fuck themselves bent backwards, for all he cared. Well, maybe if the Wright brothers _had_ actually fucked each other, he would’ve cared a little bit. But they didn’t, so what was the point.

 

A slip of paper dropped onto his notebook, covering his most recent rendition of Fitch being burned at the stake. He glanced to his right, and saw Kirstie very dutifully taking notes. Suspiciously so. Kirstie was like him in most regards, in that she did not enjoy third period history. Unfolding the note, Mitch lifted his pen automatically to reply.

 

_Kevin’s seeing colors_

 

Mitch almost gasped aloud, but hastily covered it as a yawn. Fitch glanced back in his direction, then continued his droning. Dropping his eyes back to Kirstie’s note, Mitch stared blankly, his mouth slightly open.

 

Their world was full of color, or so he was told. People were born with black and white vision, and only saw color if they met their soulmate. It was a nifty way to promote reproduction, according to evolution, except Mitch was positive that if he ever saw color, he would be incapable of making babies with his soulmate.

 

For a second, he had no idea of what to say. Kevin was in the grade above him and Kirstie, he gave them rides to and from school most days, and let them have free sodas at the diner he worked at after school. As far as Mitch knew, he had still been seeing in gray that morning when they got to school.

 

 _Are you serious???_ Mitch finally wrote, then glanced up. Fitch had his back to them, writing something on the chalkboard. Carefully, Mitch flicked the paper onto Kirstie’s desk.

 

It took almost a minute for the paper to land back on his desk. Mitch unfolded it with shaking fingers, looking for black ink on the gray paper.

 

_Totally serious. He just texted me. He skipped second period and ran into his soulmate. A guy._

 

Mitch’s eyebrows shot even further up his forehead. Kevin was seeing colors and he was gay? How could he have missed it? He spent a lot of time trying to flag down the attention of attractive guys like Kevin, and he meant a lot of time. Fitch was still facing the chalkboard, so Mitch hastily scribbled a reply and tossed it back to Kirstie.

 

_wtf_

 

_that’s what I thought, Kev sent me a photo, I’ll show you after class_

 

_you’d better_

 

“And that’s how the Wright brothers became famous for the first successful airplane,” Fitch said, and the bell rang. The old and balding teacher started shouting about homework and assigned readings, but no one paid attention. Mitch shoved his notebook and pen into his gray plaid backpack, immediately ducking past a couple of the football players to grab Kirstie’s arm.

 

“Show me this guy, now,” he demanded.

 

Kirstie pulled out her phone immediately and unlocked it, then held it out to him. Mitch snatched it, gazing with rapt attention.

 

“What’s his name?” he asked.

 

“Avi, Kev said,” Kirstie answered. “He’s hot, isn’t he?”

 

“Totally!” Mitch agreed. “What the hell, I had no clue!”

 

“Neither did Kevin, apparently,” Kirstie laughed. “Can you believe it? Our friend is seeing color. Like, actual color.”

 

“Wow,” Mitch whispered.

 

“Makes you wonder,” Kirstie said, slipping her phone from Mitch’s fingers, “y’know, when we’ll see color.”

 

Mitch let his hand drop, walking autonomously beside his friend towards the cafeteria. They fell into a companionable silence, both staring ahead at the world laid out in shades of gray around them. Mitch had wondered before if it was possible that color wasn’t even real. That there was nothing beyond the gray.

 

“Hey, Mitch?”

 

Mitch glanced over at Kirstie briefly before looking back at the crowd. “What?”

 

“You remember that party last semester at Tyler’s house? The one with the -”

 

“The pot brownies?” Mitch laughed, nodding. “How could I forget _that_? I spent two days throwing up!”

 

“Anyway, when I tried one, I saw… I don't know what exactly what it was but --”

 

“What?” Mitch said, his smile now faded. Kirstie wouldn't meet his eye.

 

“I think it -- I think it was pink?” she said.

 

Mitch just stared at her. Kirstie glanced up at him, then dropped her gaze back to the ground. Mitch opened his mouth, then got knocked onto the ground.

 

“Hey, watch where you're going, punk,” snapped the jock who'd knocked him down.

 

“Hey, why don't you open your eyes!” Kirstie shouted after him. Mitch stuck his middle finger in the air, scowling at the dark gray back of his letterman jacket. Kirstie grabbed his hand and pulled him up; Mitch brushed off his jeans, glaring still.

 

“Jackass,” he muttered.

 

“We were standing in the middle of the hallway,” Kirstie reminded him as they began walking again.

 

“He's still a jackass,” Mitch argued. Kirstie held up her hands in defence.

 

“Whatever you say,” she said.

 

Mitch shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, watching the gray and white tiles advance onward down the hallway, where they met with gray doors to open into gray rooms.

 

“What's pink?” Mitch said softly.

 

“I don't know,” Kirstie sighed. “I don't know how to describe it, not without just… pink.”

 

“What ice cream flavor is it?” Mitch asked. Kirstie glanced at him, then burst into laughter.

 

“Strawberry,” she said, her dark gray lips parting in a wide smile.

 

Mitch nodded. “Strawberry,” he murmured.

 

“It was beautiful,” she said. “It was this soft color, and it was everywhere. Everything was a shade of pink.”

 

“Like strawberry ice cream,” Mitch said, smiling even though he suddenly felt like crying. He hadn't ever seen pink. He ate the same brownies she did, but no pink.

 

“And bubblegum,” she said. “I looked it up. People said pink was the color of bubblegum.”

 

“What else is pink?” Mitch asked her. They were at the cafeteria by then, joining the line to get food automatically, but he wasn't hungry anymore. He wanted to know about pink.

 

“Lips,” she said. “And when your cheeks get warm, they turn pink.”

 

Mitch touched his cheek, feeling cold skin under colder fingers.

 

“And ballet clothes, they're pink too. And a lot of flowers are pink.”

 

“It sounds beautiful,” Mitch whispered.

 

“It is,” she said, her voice reverent.

 

“I wish I saw pink,” Mitch mumbled.

 

“I wish I could still see it,” Kirstie admitted. “I'm -- I'm almost tempted to try another funny brownie,” she added with a laugh.

 

“Well, don't,” Mitch said, trying and failing to be stern. “We both spent two days throwing up.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Kirstie sighed. “It's just… pink.”

 

Mitch touched her shoulder, squeezing it gently.

 

“Hey, are you guys in line or…?”

 

“Oh, right, sorry!”

 

Mitch and Kirstie grabbed trays, stepping into the line to collect food from the expressionless lunch ladies. One woman dropped a pale-gray slop of mashed potatoes onto a plate, then another spooned darker gray pile of peas beside it. At the end of the line, Mitch took his plate of varyingly gray food to the cash register, where a woman in a gray uniform rang him up and handed him a carton of gray fruit juice. Kirstie followed him to a metal, gray table near the back, where they dropped their trays and sat down with equal sighs.

 

“Gotta love peas,” Mitch muttered.

 

Kirstie poked her gray pile of peas with a fork, then grimaced. “Rubbery,” she said. “Screw the food pyramid.”

 

“Agreed,” Mitch said, and the both scrapped the old, gray peas off their plates onto their trays.

 

“So, I bet Kevin’s not coming back today,” Mitch said, getting a fork full of lumpy gray potatoes.

 

“Nope,” Kirstie sighed. “He's probably trying to get used to color. And his soulmate. And the fact that his soulmate’s a guy.”

 

“Probably,” Mitch said.

 

“What’ll you do once you meet your soulmate?” Kirstie asked.

 

“You know,” Mitch told her. “Fuck potatoes.”

 

“Y’know,” Kirstie sighed, trying not to smile as Mitch scrapped his potatoes off his plate, “out of context, that sounds a lot like you and your soulmate are going to have a threesome with some potatoes.”

 

“You know what they say, the Irish are animals,” Mitch said with a shrug.

 

Kirstie let out an undignified snort and covered her mouth. “Are you gonna have a threesome with the exchange student?”

 

Mitch shrugged, then turned around. “Hey, Jack! Jack! Wanna have a threesome with me and my soulmate once I meet him?”

 

“Fack, no! My soulmate would kill me!”

 

Mitch turned around and shrugged. “Guess not.”

 

“It's a shame he has a girlfriend back in Ireland,” mused Kirstie, “He's so hot.”

 

“Ah, ah, ah, not just a girlfriend, a soulmate,” Mitch reminded her. “Don't be the homewrecker that goes between a handsome Irish man and his bonnie lass.”

 

“Screw you, Mitch,” Kirstie sighed.

 

“No, thanks, I prefer dicks.”

 

Kirstie covered her eyes with a hand while Mitch laughed.

 

As the final bell rang that afternoon and the students gathered their things to flee for the weekend, Mitch was preparing for the second circle of hell, aka the bus, when Kirstie grabbed his arm.

 

“Hey, Kevin texted me,” she said, “He's gonna pick us up, so we can go meet his soulmate.”

 

“Ooh, the infamous Avi,” Mitch breathed, and the two of them giggled.

 

“What color are his eyes, do you think?” Kirstie said. “I think his hair is black, but his eyes…”

 

“We don't even know what color Kevin's eyes are,” Mitch reminded her. “You don't know what color your eyes are.”

 

“We'll have to ask Kevin,” Kirstie decided, linking her arm through his as they made their way down the hallway. “Do you think they might be pink?”

 

Mitch was sure he'd read somewhere that eye colors were fairly limited, but he just nodded. “Maybe. Who knows?”

 

“I hope so,” Kirstie said, smiling as she gazed into the distance. Mitch looked at her eyes. They looked black to him. “Look, there's Kevin's car!”

 

As she pointed, a honk came from the battered mini van Kevin called his “babe magnet.” Ironically. Though, now it was legitimately ironic. Funny how that worked out.

 

“Kevin!” Kirstie shrieked, yanking her arm from Mitch’s and running for the van. “Kevin, Kevin, what color are my eyes?”

 

“Uhhh,” said Kevin. Mitch reached the van, where Kirstie was leaning over the passenger side window, holding her eyes open as wide as possible so Kevin could judge what color they were. Mitch opened the side door and climbed in while Kevin leaned on.

 

“I think they're brown,” Kevin said.

 

“Brown,” Kirstie murmured. “Not -- not pink?”

 

“I don't think eyes can be pink,” Kevin admitted. Mitch discreetly kicked the back of his friend's chair. “But brown is really beautiful. Your eyes are like… like coffee.”

 

“With or without milk?” Kirstie asked.

 

“Without,” Kevin said. Kirstie grinned.

 

“Are you getting in?” Mitch asked her, leaning forward to look into her apparently brown eyes. Brown had to be a dark color, he thought, because her eyes just looked like black to him.

 

“Oh, right,” Kirstie said, then yanked open the passenger door and got in. Mitch shut the side door, and Kevin put his foot to the gas peddle.

 

“What color is that?” Kirstie asked, pointing to a stop sign.

 

“It's red,” Kevin answered, turning.

 

“What about the sky? Is it blue or not?”

 

“It looks blue,” Kevin answered. “It isn't actually blue, but it looks that way.”

 

“Wow,” Kirstie sighed.

 

“What color are my eyes?” Mitch asked.

 

Kevin glanced at him in the rearview mirror, his black eyes flicking briefly from the gray asphalt to the gray interior of the van.

 

“They're brown, too,” Kevin said quietly. “But with a bit of red.”

 

Mitch felt his lips curving in a slight smile. He decided brown was prettier than pink. Probably.

 

“So, where are we going?”

 

“The mall,” Kevin answered. “Avi went to go get his best friend, we agreed to meet back up at the food court.”

 

“Good, I am starving,” Mitch whined. “The lunch ladies gave us literal garbage for lunch.”

 

“Glad I missed it,” Kevin laughed.

 

“Why did you skip today?” Kirstie asked, brushing away the gray curls that had fallen in her eyes.

 

“Truth,” Kevin said, raising his eyebrows, “I had a dentist appointment that I almost forgot about.”

 

“You met him at the dentist?” Kirstie asked, astonished.

 

“Outside,” he said. “We got out of the chair at the same time.”

 

“Romantic,” Mitch quipped.

 

“Hey, the dentist’s office was pretty colorful,” Kevin said, glancing back at him again, his pale gray lips parting in a smile. “The walls were purple.”

 

“How do you know all the colors already?” Mitch asked him, though he suspected that he knew the answer already.

 

“Avi and me, we just wandered around for a couple hours to figure them out,” Kevin said. He was already turning onto the main road that the mall was on. “We found this website for people who’ve just started seeing colors,” he added, a soft gleam in his otherwise black eyes, “you can take pictures of the thing you want to know the color of, and it’ll tell you what it is.”

 

“What color is that?” Kirstie asked, pointing to a tree on the side of the road, its leaves were all different shades of gray.

 

“They’re lots of colors,” Kevin answered. “It’s autumn, the leaves are red and yellow.”

 

“Wow,” Kirstie breathed. Mitch looked out the window at the tree. A dark gray leaf fell from it as they passed.

 

“Who saw who first?” Kirstie asked. “Did he see you first? Is it true, is the first color you see the color of your soulmate’s eyes?”

 

“I saw him first,” Kevin told her. “He didn’t say if he saw brown before all the other colors.”

 

“Is that what color your eyes are?” Kirstie said, turning in her seat to look at him. “They look black to me.”

 

“They’re brown, yeah,” Kevin said. “Didn’t your mom tell you about this stuff growing up?”

 

“Not really,” Kirstie admitted. “She said I’d figure it out when I was older.”

“My mom told me a bit,” Mitch said. “Just the necessary stuff, though.”

 

“Maybe it’s a white people thing,” Kevin said, laughing. “Avi said he had no clue about any colors either.”

 

“What color are his eyes?” Mitch asked.

 

“This blueish green,” Kevin said, a soft smile curving his lips. “Really bright.”

 

“What is blue like?” Kirstie asked breathlessly.

 

“Well,” Kevin murmured. They reached an intersection, the signs saying STOP. Mitch wondered if the word was colored, but Kevin was telling them about blue. “It’s like this cool color. Like, water is supposed to be blue, and the sky looks blue.”

 

“What ice cream flavor is it?” Mitch asked.

 

Kevin turned around in his seat. “Boy, you trippin’. Ice cream isn’t blue.”

 

“There’s no blue ice cream?” Kirstie said.

 

“No,” Kevin said. The sign changed, from STOP to GO. Kevin lifted his foot from the brake and Mitch leaned back in his seat, thinking about ice cream. There should be a blue flavor of ice cream, Mitch thought. There should be an ice cream flavor for every color.

 

“I guess, maybe cotton candy,” Kevin mused.

 

“What?” said Mitch, looking back at him.

 

“Cotton candy,” Kevin said. “It’s got pink too, but it has some blue.”

 

“I like pink,” Kirstie said.

 

“You would,” Kevin laughed.

 

“What’s your favorite color?” Kirstie asked him.

 

“Blueish green,” answered Kevin, that same soft smile back on his lips. Mitch smiled a little, watching Kevin’s expression go all fond and happy. It was a good look on him.

 

“What color is that?” Kirstie asked, pointing to the sign for the mall.

 

“It’s gray, actually,” Kevin answered. “But it has some green,” he added when Kirstie’s shoulders dropped and her lips fell into a pout. She cheered up again.

 

“Are a lot of things actually gray?” Mitch asked him.

 

“Sort of,” Kevin answered, but distractedly, he was looking for a place to park. “Like, a lot of text is black and white, and a lot of public spaces aren’t very colorful, but even then, there’s still color.”

 

“I can’t wait to see color,” Kirstie sighed.

 

“Trust me,” Kevin said, his voice suddenly quiet, “you’ll be happier to see your soulmate than color.”

 

“Color’s turned you into a romantic,” Mitch laughed.

 

“It’s true,” Kevin said, chuckling again. “Your heart gets all fluttery, your brain doesn’t even register the color, only your soulmate’s face. It’s worth being a romantic.”

 

“Aww,” Kirstie and Mitch sighed.

 

“Okay, not that romantic,” Kevin laughed. “Don’t go all squishy and sappy on me.”

 

“Awww!” Kirstie and Mitch squealed together; Mitch clapped his hands under his chin and made a face, Kirstie fake fainted.

 

“Shut up!” Kevin laughed. “Let me park before you make me puke.”

 

“You’re the one seeing colors,” Mitch reminded him as Kirstie burst into giggles. Kevin tried to scowl, but it broke into a smile and he chuckled.

 

“Legit, shut up so I can park,” Kevin told them, laughing still. “And get out of my mirror, Mitch.”

 

Mitch rolled his eyes, then flopped sideways on the bench. “Happy?”

 

“Totally,” Kevin said absently, backing into a space. “Am I straight, Kirstie?”

 

“Considering the day’s events, I’d say you’re kinda gay,” Kirstie said. Mitch snorted while Kevin shook his head as he tried not to laugh.

 

“I meant the car,” Kevin corrected. “Forgive me of my heteronormative wording.”

 

Kirstie giggled as she checked her mirror. “You’re good.”

 

“Thank you,” Kevin said, turning the engine off. “Now, come meet my soulmate.”

 

“Yay!” Kirstie squealed.

 

Mitch followed Kevin and Kirstie inside; he and Kirstie were almost skipping, they were so excited to meet Kevin’s soulmate.

 

“Is he tall?” Kirstie asked.

 

“Is he fit?” Mitch said.

 

“Is he funny?” Kirstie gasped.

 

“Is he sweet?” Mitch begged.

 

“Will you two just chill for a second,” Kevin laughed.

 

“But is he really as pretty as that picture looked?” Mitch whined. “Like, eye candy pretty or art pretty or –”

 

Mitch stopped mid-sentence. Kirstie glanced at him, her eyebrows furrowing. Mitch pressed his hands to his mouth, his wide eyes absorbing what was in front of him, consuming it hungrily, sucking it in and going haywire with the shock.

 

“Mitch?” Kirstie said, stepping closer to him as her hair fell into her eyes, a dark, cold colored band barely holding it back. “Are you okay?”

 

Mitch flicked his gaze around, silent as he stared. The people around him were all gray except for streaks of one single color, there were signs that had spatterings of it, the floor was tiled in two shades of gray, white, and this _color_.

 

“What’s the matter?” Kevin asked.

 

Mitch looked back at them. Kirstie’s skirt was a lighter shade than Kevin’s shirt, not as bright as the tiles on the floor, almost pale. Mitch dropped his hands, then swallowed. His mouth was dry.

 

“What color is your shirt?” he whispered.

 

Kevin glanced down at himself. “Blue,” he said. “Why?”

 

“Blue,” Mitch repeated. He looked around again, taking in blue. He looked up; there was a glass paneled skylight above the food court, exposing the clouds and sky above. He felt his nose stinging as his eyes welled up with moisture. “Blue,” he muttered.

 

“Mitch, what’s going on?” Kirstie asked, grabbing his arm. He jumped, startled.

 

“I – I think my soulmate has blue eyes,” he said, then swallowed again. “And I think he’s looking at me.”

 

Kirstie gasped loudly, her hands flying to cover her mouth as Kevin’s jaw dropped. Mitch looked around, trying to tell who was looking at him, but there were hundreds of people there.

 

“Um, hey.”

 

Mitch looked back, Avi was standing there, looking just like his picture, except now parts of his eyes were blue. Kevin glanced between Avi and Mitch, his mouth still open.

 

“This is Scott,” Avi said, and Mitch glanced to the guy standing next to him.

 

Scott gave him a wave, his bright blue eyes fixed on Mitch’s. Mitch flicked his gaze up and down him. He was blonde. Mitch jerked his gaze back up to his hair, then a brighter color on his shirt caught his attention, then his softly colored skin and then his bright blue eyes.

 

“I think he’s your friend’s soulmate,” Avi continued.

 

“Oh, fuck,” Mitch muttered.

 

“That’s, uh, that’s not what I was expecting,” Scott laughed. Mitch was staring at his shirt, it was a bright color he couldn’t identify.

 

“Fuck is right though,” Kevin said. “Damn.”

 

Scott stuck out his hand. Mitch glanced at it, then jumped forward and threw his arms around Scott’s neck.

 

“Wow, okay,” Scott laughed. “It’s great to meet you, too.”

 

“Where have you been my whole life,” Mitch said.

 

“Where have you been,” Scott countered.

 

Mitch pulled back, staring into his bright blue eyes. “I have no clue, but I never want to let you out of my sight again.”

“Same,” Scott said, smiling. Mitch’s gaze flicked to his lips. Lips were pink, he remembered. Scott’s were beautiful.


End file.
